


If You Can't Grow Your Own, Store Bought Is Fine

by timeloan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Sex, Bad Flirting, Bottom Killua Zoldyck, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Face-Fucking, Gon is an even bigger simp, Gonkillu - Freeform, Killua is a big simp, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeloan/pseuds/timeloan
Summary: Gon’s been hitting on the white-haired barista for about a week straight. He fears if he strikes one more cord, the poor man might actually burst into flames one of these days.A story in which Gon can't stop thinking about a certain white-haired barista.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	If You Can't Grow Your Own, Store Bought Is Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittycats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittycats/gifts).



> I wrote this for the light of my life, one of the most talented and intelligent people I've ever had the privilege to interact with. Happy Birthday my dear. 
> 
> Some notes: Gon is trans ftm in this fiction. Words like mound, dick, slick are used to describe his genitals. Obviously, Killua gets the strap.

Gon’s been hitting on the white-haired barista for about a week straight, finding almost any reason to enter the red doors and see familiar blue eyes staring back at him. He fears if he strikes one more cord, the poor man might actually burst into flames one of these days— not that he’d mind it. Killua, as his name tag states, sets behind the counter every single Sunday— Gon’s only day off. They never actually formally introduce themselves or exchange the typical pleasantries, polite comments about the weather. Instead, they find themselves bonding over Killua’s gritty sarcasm and Gon’s shameless flirting. From some poking and prodding, Gon finds out he’s from out west, drives a car that he certainly can’t pay the monthly payment for on a barista’s salary alone, and blushes almost as much as he sneers. Steady inside jokes buildup between the two of them, the loud thrum of the cappuccino machine isn’t enough to drown out his voice from Gon’s mind; those soft lips, oddly white hair, the permanent flush decorating his cheeks. Gon is undeniably infatuated with the guy. 

They have developed somewhat of a routine over the past month. Gon orders his green tea, flirts haphazardly, and sometimes Killua will flirt back, revealing a row of straight teeth— other times, he’ll shoo him away while muttering complaints under his breath. No matter what he does, there’s always a slight feign of disinterest that leaves Gon wanting to talk to him even more, hanging onto every word he says. Occasionally, he’ll send Gon an extra pastry, gnawing on his lips as he racks his gaze over Gon’s form when he thinks Gon isn’t looking. Sometimes the glare is heated, rough, and Gon wishes he could see what sorts of faces Killua would make if he actually got the chance to touch him the way he wants to. If Gon is lucky, he’ll catch him in the act and wink at him, tease him a bit because why not? 

So, on quiet Sundays like this one where the world seems at peace and church going parents and their giddy children have vacated the premises in favor of sitting in dusty pews, he gets Killua all to himself. Killua might abandon his post at the counter, bring Gon an extra cup of tea, stare holes into his hairy forearms and stuff his hands into his pocket. He’ll always perch on the edge of his seat, legs crossed primly. Gon can’t help but emulate his posture, set at the edge of his own chair as he lets their knees knock casually. Gon will entertain him with stories of his travels and do everything in his power to make those blue eyes crinkle around the edges, the empty cafe filled with Killua’s chirped laughter and toothy smile. The light tinkle of the bell hanging above the door alerts Killua of a guest, cutting their private jokes short. Killua moves to greet the customer who is observing the menu quietly. Gon’s knees feel cold without Killua’s pressed against his own. 

“Wait,” Gon says, grabbing onto the pale wrists before he can stop himself. Killua takes a look at the enclosed brown hand pressing into his own and back up at Gon expectantly. 

“What time is your shift over? Do you have plans? I wanna cook you dinner.”

“Cook dinner for me,” Killua repeats, struggling to maintain his air of casualness that slowly cracks behind feathery bangs. “You want me to come to your house? You could be a cannibal or something.” Gon snorts at this, his hearty laughter thrown against the aged wood decorating the booth. 

“I wouldn’t. Just think about it. Please?” he says, putting on his best puppy dog eyes before releasing Killua’s wrist.

"I'll think about it," he mutters, turning away. Gon watches him walk away, and he knows Killua can feel his eyes on him; he fidgets as he makes his way to the register unable to hide carnation red cheeks. Gon collects his bag, he has to make a trip to the supermarket and prep before Killua can come over. He shuffles out the door, waving goodbye to both Killua and the customer, taking up a light gait that surely wasn’t there before. 

Gon returns ten minutes till close, and finds Killua scuffling about, reluctantly cleaning beneath a table. Gon vaguely thinks about how many times he’s accidentally touched aged gum, wrinkling his nose at the memory. 

“Let me help you,” Gon says, entering the chill of the building gratefully. Killua looks up from his task, nostrils flared. 

“What— no, just give me ten minutes.”

“But I want to,” Gon complains, grabbing the broom propped in the corner. It’s not like he hasn’t helped Bisky clean up before. “I don’t mind, seriously Killua. This way, we can eat sooner.” He looks like he wants to argue but thinks better of it.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Killua says, not one to pass up on help with cleaning. He hates the evening shift, Gon knows it. 

It’s nice, though, Gon thinks; the quiet swoosh of a methodical sweeping noise invades his mind. He hums to pass the time, happy to help, eager to see the relief on Killua’s face. He’s worrying his lip absently with his teeth. Perhaps Gon will ask about it later, but sometimes it's best to let people mull over their own thoughts. Whatever it is, he hopes he can wipe the somewhat odd look from Killua’s eye, hopes he can make a dish Killua enjoys, hopes they can have a good time. He’s pretty confident in his cooking skills, anyway, he’s learned from the best. 

“Are you gonna burst into song there?” Killua remarks after some time, watching as Gon scoops up shards of pastry with a broom and dust pan. He’s just about done taking stock.

“If that’s what you’re into,” Gon replies. “I can sing to you.” Gon opens his mouth wide, taking in a dramatic breath.

“Please, God, don’t,” Killua begs, slapping a hand over Gon’s open mouth. There’s a beat before he snatches his palm away, willing away the heat rising to his face. “I-”

“You can touch my face. I don’t mind since it's you,” Gon grins. “They smell like blueberry. Do you guys have any more of those muffins, by the way? They were really good.” 

“Aren’t you about to have dinner?”

“So?” Gon says with a shrug. “There’s nothing that could spoil my appetite. I’m always hungry,” he adds, looking at Killua pointedly. Killua rolls his eyes, turning away from him. 

“I’ll bag some up for you,” he mutters, hooking the clipboard on the wall. They both wash their hands, flicking water at one another before trailing into the heat of late afternoon. Gon holds the door open for Killua, watching his face pull at the gesture into something between a sneer and a smile. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, leading the way to his car. 

* * *

Gon finds himself growing more and more eager as they make their way up the stairs of the apartment complex. He’s already prepped, having gone home before to organize his spices, chop his vegetables, and grab what he didn’t have from the supermarket down the street. All that was left was to throw it all together and hopefully ‘wow’ Killua in the process. 

“Shoes off please,” Gon announces as, swinging the door open to his apartment. He removes his own quickly, ready to offer his hand, but he finds that Killua doesn’t need anything to steady him. “This is my home, for right now, anyway” he says, offering a wolfy grin as he leads Killua into the living room. Killua trails behind him, not saying much as he inspects the forest green carpeting, the couch almost as old as Gon, the fluffy throw pillows. Killua see’s small momentos decorating Gon’s shelves, hanging plants that have obviously been well taken care of, the bright light of the afternoon filtering in through the blinds. Hidden amongst the vase of seashells and fishing trophies is a picture of Gon sitting next to what _has_ to be Kon, his alleged best friend from his childhood— a fucking bear.

“Jesus christ,” Killua mutters, incredulous, “I thought you were fucking joking.”

“What, about Kon? Why would I joke about that?” Gon says, his hands planted on his hips as he studies Killua who studies his apartment. 

“You are… so fucking weird,” Killua decides once he’s done with his scan. “I like your apartment. It suits you.” Killua offers the tiniest of smiles.

“You think so?” Gon says, the realization that he’s finally alone with Killua hits him like a pile of rocks, sinking into his gut. Killua must feel similarly, fiddling with his sleeve absently. “Do you wanna wash up? You must be hungry after working since this morning. I won’t make anything complicated since you probably haven’t eaten.” Gon says this as if he hasn’t thought about what he’d cook in depth, as if he didn’t spend five minutes picking out mushrooms before throwing a case in haphazardly after decidedly refusing to call Mito for assistance. He directs Killua to the guest bathroom, promising that he’ll be in the kitchen upon Killua's return. 

Gon doesn’t hear Killua leave the restroom let alone walk up behind him. He’s totally involved in the dish, constantly stirring the homemade sauce so that it doesn’t burn. 

“Oh wow,” Killua breathes, much too close and not close enough. “You’re _cooking,_ like actually cooking.” Gon chuckles at the surprised look on Killua’s face. 

“Yeah, what did you think I was gonna do,” Gon asks, bringing the spoon to his lips absently. Killua realizes he’s been watching Gon’s lips cool the sauce for so long that the silence has become inappropriate. Those lips twitch into a smirk. 

“I guess I just— Well, I was thinking,” he trails, looking anywhere but at the hazelnut eyes growing wider and wider, more and more smug by the second. Is he really this obvious?

“You were thinking...?” Gon asks, feigning ignorance, but he’s eating Killua’s reaction up like a man on the verge of starvation. Killua runs his fingers through his bangs, disrupting soft curls. He looks nice with his hair pulled back. He just looks nice in general— better than nice, Gon thinks. 

“Nothing, asshole, forget about it,” Killua mutters, looking away with his infamous sneer. 

“Hmm, but now I wanna know,” Gon says with too much mirth. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I don’t eat much meat these days.” 

“What? Are you vegetarian or something?” Killua asks, having recovered from his embarrassment marginally. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but I do try my best,” Gon partially mumbles, fixed on his dish. He removes the rice from the hot eye, placing it on the potholder gingerly. “Anyway, is that a problem? I can run to the store and grab something if you want. Chicken? Beef?” 

“It’s not like I have to have it,” Killua states, cautiously watching Gon work. 

“But you _want_ it?” Gon states, a dimple appearing on his cheeks. Killua wants to brush his lips across it. “I feel like you’re picky.”

“I didn’t _say_ that.” 

“So, what _do_ you want, Killua,” Gon says, finally looking up from his creation. He fixes his eyes on Killua’s, curious about the lengths of this back and forth game. Killua has to know by now that Gon is interested in him; He’s let him know on numerous occasions, always stopped short by a sarcastic remark, a rough flick to his forehead, the distraction of a customer. Was it selfish of him to at least crave an answer with the object of his temptation so close, smelling of yeast, cologne, the faintest hint of roasted coffee; sweet, but dark. He knows very well that he’s staring, once again, waiting. “Killua?” He questions, stepping closer as if it will hurry his reply. Killua doesn't budge, only inches from Gon’s chest meeting his own.

“Yeah?” Killua replies, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. His voice gravelly and wavering. He’s squirming, arms folded across his chest, the ruddy pink cheeks having returned full force. He looks... frustrated if Gon had to put a word to it. Gon acknowledges him, approaching him cautiously like one would, a wild animal. For each step since then, Killua matches him with a step backward until his lower back meets the chill of the unforgiving counter. It’s not that Killua doesn’t want to be near Gon— it’s the opposite, rather. But for so long, he couldn’t tell if he misread the situation, if he’d built this entire fantasy in his head based on casual flirting and the appeal of muscled forearms. He wishes for once that he spoke up, gotten his lines straight, hadn’t spent so much time convincing himself that Gon didn’t want him outside of non-committal throw away lines to pass the time. Because the way Gon looks at him now, chestnut eyes scorching and open, he’d like to say it’s not unrequited; the attraction, anyway. It’s more stifling than anything he’s ever felt and it’s a lot to process in the tiny kitchen when they’re only feet apart and his heart thunders loudly in his ears.

“Killua,” Gon says, his mouth only inches apart from the man he’s addressing. “We can have a normal dinner, and talk about whatever you want, and end things there.” There’s obvious disdain on Killua’s features at the suggestion, the slight wrinkle of his nose, the curl of wet lips. It’s cute and uniquely Killua. “But if you want something else, you should stop cutting yourself off all the time. You already know I want you, so it’s only fair that you tell me how you feel, right?” Gon reasons placing a hand on the counter Killuas casually leaning on, right next to slender hips. 

“What, you want me to tell you how attractive you are or something?” 

“I mean if that’s what you think, then why not?” He offers with a tilt of his head. Killua is so close and Gon is drowning helplessly in the storm brewing under his skin. No amount of time on the sea has prepared him for the self-control he’s sustaining right now. He wants to pull on Killua’s ponytail; he’s imagined it on numerous occasions, what the white curls would feel like between his fingers, feathery and light. 

“You’re kind of sadistic, you know that?” Killua says turning his head, breaking eye contact. It’s disturbing how much blood has flooded from his head to other regions of his body just based on conversation alone, a determined look in Gon’s eye makes him want to re-think having ever ignored Gon’s advances. He wrote them off until they landed at his doorstep in the form of much too early dinner plans, loud and unavoidable and erasing the quiet doubts. Maybe he’s still right about Gon only seeing him as means for entertainment, but he finds that he doesn't mind as much now that the meal is staring him in the face, steaming and enticing. 

“Hm, I usually get ‘masochistic’, but I can see where you’re coming from.” 

“You’re a ‘masochist’?”

“If I’m in the mood for it. But you’re right sometimes I like giving and sometimes I like taking,” Gon confirms casually as if the information isn’t going to be permanently etched in Killua's brain. As if Killua won’t masturbate to the idea of it all later. “That’s why I like this,” Gon adds. “Because as much as it’s paining me not to kiss you, I kind of like it too.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Your consent? I dunno, your body language is kind of confusing to read.” 

“So, I’ve been told,” Killua whispers darkly. His voice is too weak to speak at full volume. 

“I can back off,” Gon offers, matching Killua’s somewhat hushed tone. Killua didn’t know he was capable of making such a quiet noise leaves his lips. 

“No,” Killua says immediately, placing a hand on Gon’s shoulder. “I do, want you to kiss me,” as if it needs clarification. There is nothing more clarifying than the sparks that shoot through his system as Gon brushes his lips against Killua’s own, warm and full and smiling. They’re as soft as Gon always imagined they would be. It’s all he can think when they finally meet. Gon removes them almost immediately, much to Killua’s surprise. 

“I wanna touch you,” Gon breathes, still so close. It makes Killua shudder. 

“Do it.” It comes out much weaker than he means, messy and desperate like Gons hot lips moving against his own coaxing his mouth open. He relents, letting Gon taste him. The feeling of Gon’s tongue against his own muddies his brain; sharp bites of electricity zipping through him as Gon brings their pelvises together. He gasps immediately, having forgotten to breathe, having lost control of his hands as they wander over Gon’s shoulders. 

“You still haven’t told me “how attractive” I am,” Gon teases, pulling away. Killua rolls his hips against Gon’s rather than giving a proper answer. Gon busies himself with Killua’s neck, marking the flesh with teeth and tongue meeting narrow hips with his own. The thick pads of his fingers have found their way beneath Killua’s shirt and ghost over his skin. He can feel Killua’s harsh breathing, the tightening of sinew and the quiet shudder as he bites into Killua's flesh, pointedly sucking on the throbbing skin beneath his lips. He unlatches himself from Killuas skin to remove the offending t-shirt, throwing it over the barstool for later. Killua's hair comes out mussed, curls pointing every which way, goose pimples rising on milky arms. Gon makes note of the tiny tattoo; a tiny delicate scrawl of words hiding against the side of Killua's rib cage.

He can’t hide the heat thrumming under his skin if he wants to, pinked nipples already pebbled and Gon can feel his chub pressing into his thigh. Killua observes Gon observing him, disgruntled and attempting to stifle his need. 

“You are so hot Killua,” Gon says finally, pressing a kiss to Killua’s sternum. “So pretty.”

The words drop into Killua’s stomach like weights leaving him vulnerable. He takes in a shaky breath, bringing his fingers to the hem of Gon’s shirt. 

“Can I?” Gon nods. It’s his turn he supposes as he helps Killua bring his shirt over his face, waiting for comments that never come. Normally, this is his make or break moment— the mismatched fumbling that often leads with slow recovery. Instead, Killua doesn't miss a beat. 

“Shit,” Killua curses under his breath, taking in the shoulders that keep him up at night, the dark trail leading from Gon's stomach is inviting so much that he trails his own finger over it, feeling Gon's abs flex under his errant fingers. His suspicions about Gon’s innumerous freckles are confirmed in this moment, the sun-kissed skin is covered in them. Gon takes the hand traveling over his skin and presses his lips to the palm of Killua’s hand enjoying Killua’s bashful stare. It is so blissful knowing where that blush originates. 

“Before this goes any further,” Gon begins, staring into Killua’s face, “you should know that I don’t bottom. Ever.” He’s mildly amused when he finds Killua start to laugh. 

“That's fine because I really, really don’t want you to,” Killua whispers. He’s pretty like this, messy hair backlit by the faded oranges of the evening sun making its way through the window. 

“Perfect,” Gon says, almost imperceptibly as he grips the quaint waist, slipping his tongue back into Killua’s pliant mouth. Killua sinks his fingers into Gon’s spiky hair, shivering lightly as their chests meet. Gon nibbles on his lips hungrily, swallowing the quiet gasps against his lips until neither of them can breathe and he can feel himself growing swollen and full.

He cups Killua’s jaw in his hand, lingering just because he can and has always wanted to. 

“Get on your knees for me, Killua,” Gon breathes into his ear. When the warm breath ghosts over his skin, he shudders and nods before sinking to his knees. It’s been so long since he’s been intimate with someone, though. He’s confronted with the reality of the situation, his stupid, demanding crush right here in front of him. Yet, he rarely ever has sex, usually so busy that he doesn’t have time for that sort of thing. Right now, he can imagine it all spiraling out of control, Gon’s impulsive spirit deflating conclusively due to Killua’s predictable nature and his habit toward hesitation. He wants so badly not to let this moment slip between his fingers, to see the satisfaction on Gon’s face. It’s a little too honest, this realization. He doesn’t notice that he’s gone quiet until Gon places a hand in his hair. 

Gon, on the other hand, finally gets the opportunity to run his fingers through the soft curls, pleasantly surprised to find that they’re even softer than he imagined, springy and light, snapping back into form as he cards through them. Killua looks up at him expectantly, gnawing on his lip. Gon crouches down, staring into Killua’s face. His eyebrows begin to bunch solemnly. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he soothes, admiring the way Killua’s eyes close when he rakes his fingers across his scalp. “It’s supposed to be fun. And we can stop whenever you want.” Killua’s eyes shoot open. 

“No, I really, really want to,” he says, not without some difficulty. “It’s just been a while.” 

“Would it help if I tell you what to do,” Gon suggests. It's more selfish than he lets on, but he appreciates the red flush it brings to Killua's cheeks. He’ll never get tired of that.

“Yes. That would be good actually,” Killua breathes, almost getting lost in the feeling of Gon’s nails against his skin. He makes everything feel so simple, and simple touches feel like everything. 

“Good,” he encourages, sharing a wet kiss with Killua that leaves his stomach churning. The sweet hum at the back of Killua’s throat is going to kill him. He uses the counter to rise to his feet, watching Killua’s expression. He looks considerably calmer, the permanent flush making its way to his ears. As he smooths his hands along Gon’s clothed thigh. 

Killua plants tiny kisses along his clothed thigh, easily working at the button and zipper clinging to Gon’s form. He slides the jeans down his hips with some assistance, mouthing at Gon’s bulge through the thin briefs, soaking them with his tongue before running over the briefs with the flat of his tongue. Gon breathes evenly through his nose, breath hitching every time Killua meets his gaze washing Gon in brilliant blues and stilling him with a flick of his pink tongue. The barista seems to be enjoying his slow torture, learning what movements will send a chill down Gon’s spine or make the fingers in his hair tighten. Gon can feel himself getting hard, swollen; the inside of his underwear tacky and damp watching Killua work. He shifts his hips, removing Killua from his work while he concentrates on untucking the tip of his packer, freeing it through the window of the wet fabric. Killua, eager to please, resumes his actions, licking a tentative stripe up the fleshy brown shaft. 

Gons insides ache watching Killua mouth slide along the fleshy packer with glistening lips, his eyes half-lidded. Those same lips encircle him, bobbing timidly, the entire time his eyes are transfixed on Gon’s, questioning and and full of satisfaction when Gon releases a low growl in the back of his throat. Witnessing Killua’s kiss swollen lips work around his cock like this feels like someone’s attached jumper cables into the soles of his being, pressing down on the gas every time Killua presses the flat of his tongue against his cock. He can’t wait to make those pretty little lips sing later, and he lets him know. He makes sure to keep his eyes open, as Killua kisses up the shaft flicking a pink tongue along the flaccid length. When Killua begins to slurp, releasing a quiet moan, Gon can’t take it anymore, extracting himself fully. 

“Stand up,” he commands, thumbing at those same glistening lips before helping Killua to his feet. He yanks his pants back up, double checking all the burners before dragging Killua to his bedroom.

“Take your pants off,” Gon says, removing his own quickly. He rummages through his closet, regretting that he can’t watch Killua’s ass as he struggles with his pants. Having found his favorite box, he sets it on the nightstand, opting to ignore Killua’s curious gaze in favor of admiring the pale skin he spent way too long fantasizing about. Killua is evenly distributed and slim as opposed to Gon who is all legs, arms, and a big smile; Gon always figured he was strong, but he didn’t expect the wrap of muscle nestled over the slight frame or the expanse of silvery scars decorating Killua like trophies. It’s much easier to see now in the light of his bedroom, but he accepts them graciously because he has two large scars of his own that he rather people not ogle at. Self-inflicted they may be, a narrative they might hold, but he hopes that Killua see’s both the extent of him and the sum of what he knows himself to me.

“Gon?” Killua says, looking up from where he’s folded his pants and set them at the edge of the bed. “You okay?” 

“Of course I’m okay,” he responds, fingers wrapping around Killua’s wrist for the second (or third) time today brings them closer together, breathing the same air. He can feel Killua’s fingers rummaging through his hair when their lips meet, incessant and discordant. He kisses back with equal fervor, grazing Killua's swollen bottom lip, feeling incredibly accomplished each time Killua’s breath hitches. One of them attempts to part on multiple occasions, only to be dragged back by parted lips, blunt teeth, fingers tangling in unruly hair. 

Those same palms run up and down the expanse of Killua's body, noting the way Killua’s abs flex when Gon runs his teeth along his neck, memorizing every ragged breath. They stutter into a whine when Gon palms his erection through the fabric of his briefs, Gon responds with a possessive growl at the hollow of Killua’s neck before backing him toward the downy comforter. Gon pushes him into the sheets, enjoying Killua’s shy laughter. Gon quietly swears to himself that he’ll loosen the blonde up, even if it's just for today. 

Immediately missing the warm contact, Gon slots a knee between his legs, climbing over the top of Killua, running his fingers along his arms where the goosebumps have formed. He’s pleased when the grind of his hips turn Killua’s laughter into a drawn out groan. For every noise Killua makes, he can feel his own self throb almost painfully. It doesn’t help that Killua’s hands are everywhere, feeling along the grooves of his spine, clutching a bronzed shoulder, nails digging tentatively at the curvature of his back. Gon pins an arm down, kissing him slowly until he’s arching, hungry to make more contact than what Gon is offering him. 

“Be still,” Gon says thick, heady. He squeezes the base on Killua’s cock making him hiss. “I want you to suck me off, Killua. Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-yeah,” Killua confirms, voice catching when Gon runs his thumb over the clothed head of his erection. His pupils are blown wide, swimming. Gon can’t resist lapping along the seam of Killua’s lips one last time.

“Good, let me see you do it,” Gon says, stripping down completely. “Lay down. Open your mouth.” He runs his thumb across Killua’s bottom lip before climbing up the pale chest and situating himself just above Killua’s lips. His thighs frame Killua’s petite features, and Gon can feel Killua’s warm breath against him before they even meet. He breathes his own sigh of relief as he relaxes his hips, slightly overwhelmed by the searing contact of Killua’s pliant tongue against his cock. He’s already dripping when Killua’s tongue meets the head of his cock, swirling with mild hesitance. 

“Just like that,” Gon mutters, meeting Killua’s inquisitive gaze. He responds with a nod, craning his neck to take Gon fully into his mouth. He’s obviously enjoying himself, having resumed his quiet hums, lapping at Gon's mound, tasting him eagerly. The vibration from Killua’s mouth is heavenly against his sensitive dick.

Somewhere in the back of Killua’s mind, he acknowledges that he has no idea what he’s doing. Well, in idea maybe, but in execution, he might just be slobbering all over himself and Gon in the process, but he’ll gladly do so. He’ll do this all day if he can watch Gon’s eyebrows knit into an expression that should be framed. It feels safe, encased between Gon’s powerful thighs, the ripple of brown skin showing a thin sheen of sweat as Gon’s muscles constrict, urging his hips to roll tightly. Killua’s own hips twitch in response, eager to gain some sort of friction against his painfully hard erection. A low rumble emanates from his sternum, eyes shuttering closed, slick pooling onto his face, coating his mouth each time he runs his tongue across the head of Gon’s swollen arousal. 

“Suck it,” Gon rushes with some urgency, yanking on mussed white hair, smoothing out pale eyebrows with gentle fingers, absorbing the quiet whine. 

Gon presses his arousal against Killua’s tongue, watching him suck dutifully with a loud moan. Experimentally, he pulls on the white tufts again, satisfied when another moan vibrates against his sensitive flesh. Killua gropes blindly, fondling Gon's ass to push him deeper into his mouth. Gon is partially surprised that Killua is practically letting him suffocate him; he’s not gentle at all, grinding into Killua’s lips without much grace, smiling at the satisfaction of knowing Killua is covered with him. He hasn’t asked for Gon to let up once, chest shuddering underneath Gon’s ass as he receives what oxygen he can through his nose. Killua is so diligent, slurping heartily as slick smears against his chin, covering the lower half of his face. It isn’t long before Gon is fully rutting against his face, tightly gripping the pale hair to hold Killua in place as he fucks into his mouth. The vibration from Killua’s quiet sounds fill him with a stormy, almost frantic pull at the bottom of his gut.

“Right there, Killlua,” he pants at a particularly harsh suck. It leaves him pulsing angrily, the pleasure rippling up his spine makes his hips jerk forward. Killua takes it, breathing heavily from his nose, making an obscene suction noise that makes Gon’s cock pulse. When Killua swaps his sucking motion with long, rough flicks, Gon comes undone at the seams, hips stuttering as he releases inside Killua’s mouth. Killua whines, sucking Gon in as he rides out his orgasm completely covering Killua’s jaw and neck in the process. 

“Jesus Christ,” Gon mutters, hypersensitive as he removes himself from Killua’s lips, still convulsing lightly. Killua breathes deeply, licking at the cum painting his lips. “I got it,” Gon announces, climbing down to suck along along Killua’s glistening jaw. Killua’s neck crane, crooning lightly at Gon sucks at pallid skin. Gon collects some of his slick onto his tongue before meeting Killua’s open mouth with his tongue, spreading his cum onto Killua’s wet tongue with ease. Killua sucks gently, swallowing around Gon’s tongue. It’s so sloppy and he’s still so hard.

“Good boy,” Gon coos, watching Killua swallow before opening his mouth for seconds. “Did you like it?” Gon asks between sweet kisses. “Do you want me to fuck you now, Killua?” He says, grabbing ahold of Killua’s neglected erection. There’s a large wet spot gathering at the tip of Killua’s dick. He hisses when Gon finally removes him from his underwear, letting the cold air wash over him as he begins massaging his balls. 

“Wow, do you always talk like this,” Killua murmurs against Gon’s lips, hot and embarrassed. He climbs up onto his elbows to press a wet kiss to Gon’s ear, nibbling on the lobe, secretly grateful that he can hide his expression for a moment and collect himself. Gon releases a delighted hum, soft murmured noises. He can’t resist Killua, the brush of his tongue against the skin beneath his ear makes his own stomach curl satisfyingly. He gathers as much cum coating his thigh as possible, reaching between long legs to mark Killua’s taint with it. Killua’s breathing grows raggedy in his ears as Gon circles his hole with a cum slicked finger, applying minimal pressure, careful. Killua draws his knees toward the ceiling, exposing the meat of his thigh. 

“I can’t wait to watch you take my dick,” Gon murmurs, kissing the pale knee and sinking a slicked finger down to the knuckle. 

“Gon,” Killua says with absolutely no force behind his voice. His hole quivers at the somewhat alien sensations. Gon nibbles away at the complaints on his lips. He’s so shameless and it makes Killua ache, makes him want to hide. “I can’t— stop saying shit like that.”

“Mm, but it's true,” Gon says, flexing his finger experimentally. Killua is so tight it hurts him. He brushes the bruised purple on Killua’s skin, enthralled with the knowledge that he put them there. “You should relax, Killua. Stop thinking so much.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Gon’s neck. Gon indulges him, brushing their lips together as he stretches the warm heat open, slowly adding another finger. It becomes much easier when he can distract Killua with his tongue, suckling his lip as he scissors him open, smearing his own cum inside Killua’s hole. Killua mewls into his mouth when Gon grazes his prostate, hips chasing Gon’s fingers. Once Gon starts, he doesn’t let up, gently circling the raised area. Nails sink into the flesh of his arm when he presses down, watching Killua’s cock jump. He's wanted to do this for so long, to hear those breathless fall from Killua's lips.

“I don’t know,” Gon says, finally coaxing in a third finger. Killua’s breathing is labored, deepening when Gon’s hand meets the fleshy part of his ass. 

“Don’t know what?” Killua says with some effort. 

“Don’t know what you’re thinking,” Gon states, pressing on Killua’s insides so roughly that he can’t think. 

Killua almost forgot his body could feel like this, seizing his attention with just the curl of a finger, making him reactive and sweaty and on the verge of mumbling nonsense. He pretends he doesn’t hear himself whine when Gon removes his fingers from him. The absence of Gon’s hand is clear and lonesome. 

“Let me watch you finger yourself,” Gon says, staring into his eyes with an intensity that makes his brain go radio silent. He feels the bottle of lube pressed into his hands. “I want to see you,” Gon says, encouraging him with a kiss before rising from the bed. Killua swallows, nodding quietly before upcapping the bottle and pouring cool liquid onto his fingers. He takes in a shaky breath, sliding two chilled fingers down to his stretched hole, meeting Gon’s eyes transfixed on his skin as he slides them inside. Something about knowing that Gon is watching him so intently sends a shivering heat across every inch of him; self conscious while wanting to put on a show. He sinks down to the knuckle slowly, pleased when Gon abandons the buckles of his harness entirely in favor of watching. The way the leather straps hug Gon's ass and shape around the curve of his ass is much too enticing, and Killua is in too deep now not the stare. He allows himself a quiet groan when they sink down past the second knuckle, closing his eyes. How many times had he done this to himself with Gon’s name curled on his lips, and here he watches, openly as Killua fingers his own hole. He can feel himself leaking, passes the palm of his hand across his swollen glans, smearing precum. 

A tight grip on his wrist pulls him from his cock. 

“Only your hole. Concentrate on that,” Gon’s smile is scorching and sinister and he knows not to argue. Killua has to nail himself back to reality in order to respond. Once again, he’s scrambling to come up with a reply. Whatever he would've said is eaten away when Gon presses his free hand to Killua’s pulse point, applying the faintest of pressure. It's a sensation that's new to him in this context but it leaves his heart hammering in his chest. Gon squeezes experimentally, watching Killua’s expression, the slight quiver of his lips as he shares a thundering look with Gon. He overlaps long, pale fingers with Gon’s, squeezing tighter to Gon’s surprise. It throws him all off, to the point where he's yanking on black straps before he can think, pulling them taught and snug. 

“I changed my mind. I want to see you cum on my cock,” Gon grits, swallowing around his tongue; it sits heavy in his mouth and thick like he can’t get enough air. Killua removes his fingers from his hole with a squelch, finally taking in the sight of Gon’s cock, not far from his own hand. It’s curved, thick in an unforgiving, promising sort of way; it looks heavy, the shaft wide and veiny all the way to the hilt. His eyes widen despite himself. 

“That’s really big, Gon,” he says slowly, eying the appendage with mild worry. He expects that to fit in him? 

“You don’t think you can handle it, Killua? I can always size down if you think you can’t take it...” he trails, much too cheeky for Killua’s liking. He sucks on his teeth, releasing a huff. Is this a challenge, seeing how far he can get his asshole to stretch in a day? Why is the thought making him shiver, the heady grin on Gon’s face exacerbating his want. He takes another look at it, biting the inside of his cheek with an apprehensive glance and imagines himself filled to the brim with Gon’s cock. His stomach dips as he reaches out to smooth a hand over the length of it, squeezing it lightly. Gon’s breath catches lightly and they both throb in quiet anticipation. “What do you think?” Gon asks, bringing his attention back to him. 

“I can, and I want to,” Killua tacks on, pumping up the bravado and throwing caution to the wind. For that, he earns another brilliant smile. The mattress sinks where Gon presses his knee into the navy comforter, crawling until he lingers above Killua. He may be longer, but Gon is broader, encompassing Killua’s willowy frame easily. 

“Do you need me to stretch you out more?” Gon asks, absently running his tongue along his own plush cupid’s bow. Killua can’t tell if he does shit like that on purpose, it Gon knows how enticing it is.

“I think I’m okay,” Killua responds, suddenly as eager as he is expectant. He wants to get this show on the road, wants to feel Gon’s skin against his own as he fucks into him. Perhaps, it's overzealous, but he’ll figure it out as they go. 

“Just let me know if you need it. You are really tight,” Gon says, sharing that same haughty grin. Killua’s already hooking a leg with Gon’s as he slicks copious amounts of lube onto his dick, rubbing it across Killua’s taint until he lands at his wet entrance. He moves forward, studying Killua’s expression with diligence, stopping only when Killua begins to pant openly. He can see Killua’s hole tightening and releasing. 

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Gon instructs, wincing quietly when Killua does just that, gripping so hard he might see a bruise tomorrow. Killua, whose face shines with a thin sheen of sweat, stares at him openly with a colorful mix of nervousness and what can only be categorized as longing. Which kind, he doesn’t know. It’s dewy and sweet and makes his chest swell. It makes him want to move, but he isn’t even full inside. Killua wraps his legs around Gon’s waist, pulling him forward. He obliges, capturing Killua’s lips as he bottoms out, sharing soothing kisses as Killua whimpers at the intrusion. He can feel every single inch filling him out, the slight zing of pain, the lightest of brushes against his prostate. It feels much thicker than it looks and Gon’s name leaves his lips before he can think to stop himself. 

The waiting game is always the best, leaving Gon satisfied, a bit warm, especially when Killua calls his name so breathless and fond and needy. He calls him name in a voice Gon’s never been privy to before now; more private and without the wiry edges that build walls or cast Gons advances aside. He thinks he could get used to that voice, maybe, with it’s throaty hum and watery undertones. It makes Killua so human in his arms, tangible. He can feel his excitement buzz just watching Killua adjust, biting down on his lip as his chest flutters against Gon’s. Eventually, the harsh sting of nails pressing into his skin lessens, and Killua meets his gaze, opening clear eyes.

“You can move now, I think,” Killua whispers into the space between them. He hasn’t removed his hands from Gon’s shoulders since he put them there. Gon circles his hips experimentally, smirking when Killua pulls him back inside with a heel against the small of his back; It’s not what he expects.

“I mean you can just sit here and warm my cock all day if you want. I won’t complain,” Gon speaks directly into his ear, feeling Killua’s hot breath fan across his ear as he pants. 

“Sorry,” Killua mutters sheepishly, loosening his hold. 

“It’s fine. I like being inside you,” Gon soothes, capturing the hand Killua normally uses to hide his expression before it can reach his face. He licks a stripe along the palm experimentally, watching Killua’s face erupt into a violent blush as he takes one of the slender fingers into his mouth, suckling lightly. 

“Jesus christ,” Killua chokes, as Gon slides out almost completely, pausing before stroking back inside, sinking down to the hilt, gauging Killua’s reaction as he repeats the motion. He’s sure he’s found what he wants when Killua emits on a quiet whine, hips rolling to meet Gon’s cock halfway. Gon presses the hand he toys with into the sheets, threading their fingers together.

Gon is totally transfixed on Killua, wrapping the white pony tail in his fingers once again, basking in the quiet whimpers each time he pulls on the strands. They spur him on. He pulls away just to watch Killua’s hole stretch open as he takes each inch of him inside, the sight much more appealing than the vague fantasies he can’t begin to recall. Killua’s hole is so tight still, squeezing around Gon so that his cock almost pops out before he re-enters him. Gon does pull out entirely, slamming back inside just to hear Killua cry out each time, his voice already hoarse. It’s well worth the crescent moons he’ll have on his ass tomorrow. Something about watching Killua’s hole clench and pull at his harness each time he exits has Gon choking back his own groans. His toes curl, both from arousal and the need for something to steady his increasingly reckless thrusts. He doesn’t know how to control himself when Killua is murmuring his name like that partnered with the occasional ‘fuck’. He claws at his ass cheeks, pulling him deeper inside. He releases Killua’s left hand, satisfied when it rests at his lower back, clutching his other cheek. He takes a hold of the quaint waist that's beginning to arch away from the sheets and buries himself inside. 

Killua barely regards the beaded necklace that sways back and forth as Gon fills him over and over, a steady pace that sends a wet plap as their skin meets. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Killua registers how loud he’s being, a constant rumbling in his sternum as Gon angles his thrusts right against his prostate. The sensation leaves him breathless, clutching the sheets as strong arms hold him in place, the persistent thrum of pleasure is almost dizzying; it leaves his core shaky and electrified, especially as Gon nips at the sensitive skin beneath his ear. He didn’t know something like that could feel so good, that _he_ could feel so good, pried open as Gon praises him for how well he’s taking it. He can feel his chest flooding, his balls already so tight. 

His head falls back onto the pillows, his cock cherry red and resting heavily on his stomach untouched, beginning to dribble. He can smell the sweat soaking into his bangs, feel the weight on Gon’s left hand curled around his bicep. Gon hooks his right hand under Killua’s knee, pulling until his thigh is practically pressed into his chest. The angle is almost too much, the puffs of air leaving him shortening as his whole body adjusts to the pressure. Gon slows exponentially, grating, teasing strokes that drag against his insides slick and squelching until Killua’s leg begins to tremble. Gon releases a contented sigh, more of a breathless moan, leaning into his thrusts, watching Killua twitch in need of more stimulation. 

“Tell me what it feels like,” Gon urges, his voice gravelly and thick. His grip tightens on Killua’s arm almost possessively. He’s not sure what compelled him to ask such a thing, but Killua's penchant toward looking away draws him closer until he’s lowering himself onto his elbows. Killua’s hips rock meekly against his own as he averts his gaze, except, Gon doesn't let him this time, grabbing onto the bottom on his jaw to hold him still. Gon wets his own lips, studying Killua’s shy expression, the scarlet hue dressing his face and eyes that reflect the waters of his youth stare back at him, nervous. “I wanna know,” he trails because if he must use his imagination, he selfishly wants Killua to look and acknowledge him. He breathes unsteadily when Killua pulls them chest to chest, hugging him close. 

“It’s… so good, Gon,” Killua trails, arching when Gon rolls his hip sharply. Killua definitely had it right the first time. Gon is a little sadistic; teasing because he can, because he knows Killua is incoherent and so close. Gon presses his forehead to Killua’s, and this time, Killua won’t look away. 

“Does it feel good when I do it like this?” Gon questions, snapping his hips flush with Killua’s ass, watching him cry out. His jaw falls open as Gon repeats the actions. 

“Yes, right there,” Killua hisses, as Gon gives constant attention to the area, thrusting shallowly so that the head of his dick prod’s Killua’s prostate in short, staccato movements. Killua snakes a hand up Gon’s naked back, running his fingers across the deep grooves of muscle that shift with each rock of Gon’s hips. He’s caught between staring openly and closing his eyes to lose himself in the steady drag of Gon’s dick against his insides, not wanting to forget the moment or the way Gon watches him, but too close to do much else besides watch. 

Gon ducks his head down, his abs beginning to burn from the short, tight movements. Not that it matters, he’ll keep it up all day if he must, singularly focused on Killua’s orgasm. He knows he’s close, however, precum having smeared across both their stomachs and Killua’s increasingly reckless attempts to rock into Gon’s dick and meet him halfway. It’s starting to make Gon just as desperate, so much so that he can’t stop himself from swooping down for one last kiss when Killua is so pliant and open in his bed, Killua’s hair cascading in his sheets. It’s too rare of an opportunity to pass up, even if it is more akin to him licking Killua's open mouth than an actual kiss. He bites down on a swollen lip, grunting as he feels Killua tighten around his dick, pulling at his harness. Killua bucks meekly as seed shoots from his abandoned cock; he holds Gon inside, speaking in murmured tongues, locking him in place with a free leg. Gon can barely make out his name falling from Killua’s lips when he takes the leaking shaft into his hand, milking Killua until he’s shivering and knocking Gon’s hand away with a weak whimper. Gon frees the trembling leg hooked around him, moving to lick at the excess cum on his hand. 

“Oh my god, Gon,” Killua groans, throwing a forearm across his heated face. 

“What, did you want some?” Gon asks teasingly, offering his palm to Killua’s lips. 

“Shut up!” Killua reaches for a pillow next to his head, knocking Gon with it. A part of him is relieved that Killua hasn’t retreated to his cocoon just yet. He chuckles, ready to retaliate before realizing he’s still inside Killua. 

“I’m gonna pull out,” he warns, removing himself slowly, enjoying the resounding squelch. The harness cuts into his thigh some, now that the high is over and replaced with meek hunger that makes itself known with a growl. 

“You’re hungry,” Killua questions, rising unto his elbows. He thinks about the homemade sauce they left to chill in the kitchen and it sounds incredibly enticing right about now. 

“ _So_ hungry,” Gon breathes, leaning back on his haunches and already undoing the straps hugging his skin. He rolls the condom off dutifully, discarding it in the waste bin. He returns to help Killua to his feet. “We should probably clean up first, huh?” He says, grabbing Killua by the wrist to lead him to the bathroom. 

“Gon?” Killua questions, waiting for Gon to turn around. Killua ducks down, partially bumping against Gon’s nose as he plants a firm kiss onto his mouth, clumsy and sweett. He tastes his own cum on Gon’s lips. “Nothing. I mean, that was hot. I guess.” he whispers when they separate, his ears hot. Gon offers him a smile that rivals the morning sun, threading their filthy fingers together. Killua shivers, hoping Gon will let him shower. 

“So you admit it,” Gon says exaggerated, sharing a chaste kiss with Killua before pulling him along. “You taste like cum.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ngl, I wanna continue this AU.
> 
> follow me on twt @timeloan_


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